


Online

by thevalesofanduin



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Ok basically it's a McKirk Tumblr AU, with fitting drama and insecurities, written in a light-hearted chick-lit style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-06 23:25:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13421838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevalesofanduin/pseuds/thevalesofanduin
Summary: Being twenty-six, living with his mom and working at the local pizza place is hardly the kind of life Jim Kirk ambitioned. A nerd in a town that almost seems allergic to anything not having to do with the air force base on their doorstep he finds solace online. Yet his side-blog is portraying a Jim that’s not really, well, him.So what happens when one of his followers sends him a message because hey, I’m in Riverside too…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by two friends, a roadtrip and Online by Brad Paisley (because nothing like almost getting driven off the road as the two ladies in the front do karaoke to country while you plot McKirk in the backseat)
> 
> (also, I just borrowed the name Riverside for my own village *shrug*)

With a soft sigh Jim Kirk pushes his cap – bright red and _Antonio’s pizza_ in screaming letters on the front – up from where it slid down to his forehead.

He thinks, not for the first time today – or even this week, basically ever since he started working here – that really, he can do so much better with his life. He’s also considering taking some money he’s got saved up for Chicago Comic Con next year – _if_ he’s lucky – to get himself some new glasses because these are a tad bit big and nerdy and just a little bit broken.

Ah well, it’s not like he’s got anyone he’ll actually manage to impress around here.

So he foregoes the thought of new glasses for his Comic Con dream and plasters a smile on his face as the next teenager walks up to his till.

He asks “hi, what can I get for you today?” and wishes that he could really just get himself another life.

 

\---

 

It’s already dark out by the time he leaves work and he swings by the gas station for a bag of popcorn and a large coke before driving home.

He parks his rust-bucket at the curb ‘cause his mom’s actually home from base this week and grabs his stuff before going inside.

His mom’s in the kitchen with what sounds like a drunk Frank and as he makes his way upstairs, ignoring them both, he thinks he’s not the only one that could do better.

When he gets to his room, just like every night, he tries not to think too hard on the fact that he’s twenty-six and still has a _room_.

He had dreams, once upon a time.

With wild hopes of MIT and NASA because if Star Wars has ever taught him anything it’s that he loves space.

But while Jim might be smart, he’s also scrawny, close to blind as a bat without jam-pot glasses and when he should’ve been playing football he was in the bleachers reading books.

In a town built around an air force base where your only prospects in life are either the army or Walmart – or Antonio’s pizza although Jim’s sure the Diner would also be an option – being a nerd just doesn’t pay off.

Sure, he could’ve gone off to study. But when you grow up in middle-of-nowhere Iowa even the thought of going to college somewhere costs money. Money which Jim doesn’t have. And loans he’s not willing to take – look at Sam, college dropout and bankrupt, living in the big city that only offers him drugs and booze.

So MIT has turned into selling pizza and all he ever captures of NASA is documentaries on Discovery Channel.

At least he has his computer, he thinks with a smile as he turns it on.

 

\---

 

It’s a slow night, not so many Asks coming in but then it _is_ Wednesday which usually isn’t the highlight of Jim’s notifications anyway.

He scrolls a bit through his blog, by the posts about salads and coffees and hiking. Of freelancing from the coffee shop and of beautiful European cities.

Here, there is no Star Wars. No Tolkien references. No popcorn and large coke.

Just dreams.

Dreams and popularity and lies.

It had started as an aesthetic sort of side-blog, just some pictures of healthy food, positive quotes and pictures of space to remind himself that there is more in his future than what he is now.

People had followed him, started reblogging his posts and suddenly he’s a big online presence with people thinking he’s some sort of successful hipster with the perfect life.

Should he have made a post claiming this isn’t who he is, he’s just a nerdy dude with a motivational blog and people made assumptions based on the posts on his blog?

Probably

But that doesn’t mean that he did. Because people message him now saying he’s an example. People love his blog, love the person behind it that seems to be so happy in his own life that he wants to share that with the world. He gets Asks – both from followers and Anons – asking if he’s single, wishing he’d live closer to wherever the other person is and that they’re certain he’s as beautiful outside as he is inside.

And while he feels almost rotten whenever that happens, it also feels amazing.

So he lets it run its course, rants happily about the faults in The Hobbit trilogy movies on one blog while quoting poetry underneath a skinny Latte picture on the other.

His daily post of today is a picture he took over lunch-break. He’d gone out to catch some sun as it had been a nice day out. Finally Summer is gone and with it the humidity, so he finally feels human when walking down the street. He’d walked up to the entry to the hiking path a few minutes down the road from Antonio’s and snapped a picture of it, a black truck parked on the side with the sun beaming down on the trees. _It’s the most wonderful time of the year_   he posts under it and after filling out the tags he posts it.

An hour later, when he’s scrolling through his dash and smiling like an idiot at some cat-video, he gets a PM from _not-a-blogger-damnit_ that reads: _nice hiking shot you posted earlier, it was a good day for it today. Riverside is gorgeous in Autumn._

The excitement of having received a message fades the moment his eyes catch sight of the end of the message.

_Riverside_

With his heart in his throat Jim goes to his blog to check the picture. Was there a sign in the photo? Had he just given away his location?

_Fuck_

Maybe there’s still time to delete it, he thinks.

But when he pulls up the post and scrutinizes the picture for any signs that give away his location he finds none.

Nothing.

Just the entrance to the trail and the truck.

The truck…

Cold dread settles in the back of his mind for a moment because somehow, this is worse.

This person recognized the truck. Probably owns the truck and the only reason for that truck to be at the trail is if the person walked it. This afternoon. Which means they have to be from around here.

Relax Jim, he tells himself and takes a deep breath. It’s Autumn after all and right after Thanksgiving it could very well be it’s just someone on holiday.

There is no way, after all, that someone living here has a Tumblr and is following Jim’s blog - and even catch on to the fact that it’s him running said blog.

So he opens the message and writes back: _thanks, was a gorgeous day! Gotta love an Iowa Autumn, right?_

He gets a reply to that and that’s how they end up chatting with each other the whole evening.

It’s mostly meaningless chatter until Jim decides to take a look at the other’s blog. What he finds stuns him into a solid minute of silence.

He has to admit he wasn’t sure _what_ he was going to find – pictures of hiking shoes? Trucks? Some log cabins? – but what seems like a medical research center is _not_ it.

It’s almost like an educational website with reblogs of articles, quotes from what Jim assumes are people working in the medical field and elaborate, eloquent discussions. Not your average Tumblr discussion either, these are professional discussions about topics that fly very, _very_ high over Jim’s head but even a dummy can see the sharp wit in the other’s writing. How he’s smart yet funny and only condescending in one post that seems to slam down someone who should know better.

To say Jim is intimidated would be stating it _lightly_.

_Interesting blog_ , he sends and there’s a little sting in his chest. A wonder, if he had gone to college to study engineering, would he have a blog like this about engineering?

He gets a reply after only a minute. _Don’t you mean boring?_

_I think I meant impressive…_ Jim types back quickly, fingers lingering on the keyboard after he’s sent the message.

He _did_ mean impressive. But he also meant that he’s jealous, intimidated and insecure.

But those are his feelings, _his_ problem to bear and not something he’ll throw at a stranger.

Especially not a stranger who could be so close to him they might even find out who he really is.

He closes his eyes and swallows. How’s that for a Wednesday evening?

_It’s just a job_ is the reply.

Jim stares at the words for a moment.

He doesn’t know this person. Their story, age, _nothing_. Except for the conversation they’ve had and the blog he’s scrolled through. But somehow the words feel wrong. Here is a person who writes about saving lives, about breakthroughs in medicine and has very clear opinions about how patients should be treated – both in and out of the theatre – downplaying all of that.

And Jim looks down on himself enough to not want anyone else to do the same.

_I’m not a doctor but I can imagine you must be many things… smart, caring, dedicated. So I don’t think it’s just anything_

He almost adds something about not underplaying who you are but can’t get himself to type the words he isn’t even living by himself. It would feel too much like a lie.

Silence follows, though.

Ten minutes of it, during which Jim rereads what he’s written at least four times and worries if he’s said something wrong. Starts typing apologies which he backspaces before he can send them and he settles for stuffing his face with popcorn and scrolling through his dash a bit.

Then, he finally receives a reply. _Thanks darlin, you don’t know how much I needed to hear that._

A relief washes over him followed by a soft, sad smile that accompanies the compassion swirling through his veins.

_Anytime_ , he replies – and he _means_ it – and then, to lighten the heavy mood that seems to have fallen over their conversation, adds: _by the way, did you really just call me darling? Just for the record, you’re not in a retirement home right?_

_What is it with everyone on this website? Y’all think just cause I say darlin I’m some old dude…_

“Hah,” Jim mumbles in a sense of victory at finding out he’s talking to a guy. _All right then, apologies to Mr. not-an-old-dude-from-the-south ;)_

His hunch is proved right when he receives a _now we’re getting somewhere_ in reply.

_So it’s what, southern charm? You a real gentleman with accent, manners and all?_ Jim teases with a laugh, settling back into his chair feeling amused and happy – fear of being found turned into excitement about what is turning out to be a fun conversation.

_Ain’t nothing wrong with some good manners, darlin’ it gets you places ;)_

Jim raises an eyebrow at that. Wonders what it’s supposed to be. Without the emoji it would’ve been awfully condescending but _with_ it, Jim can’t help but wonder if he’s reading too much into it if he assumes it could be flirting.

So he sends a message he can pass off as a joke if he’s wrong and this isn’t flirting and this turns out to just be one big mistake. So _you’re gonna make me melt with nicknames and an accent?_

_Can’t hear my accent through chat but if you want me to make you melt I can, sugar. Don’t you doubt it._

Jim sits staring at his screen for a few moments at that message. He’s shocked and excited and he doesn’t even know what this man looks like but oh, he thinks he wants him. _Wouldn’t dream of it,_ he sends back and then changes the topic – needs to because this really can’t go any further. The flirting is fun but fact remains Jim isn’t like this. He’s not so eloquent in real life, not so successful in real life. He’s just… Jim. _So what’s a southern man doing in Riverside?_

Turns out, he is filling in for his friend at his practice while said friend is on his honeymoon.

_Had to get away from Atlanta and Geoff has been postponing that damned trip for months. Almost thought his wife would demand a divorce if he didn’t actually arrange it before the end of this year!_

Jim’s fingers are itching to ask the other why he needed to leave Atlanta. But he supposes it’s none of his business so he doesn’t ask. Asks, instead, how he met his friend.

He gets a _and who’s asking?_ in reply. _Cause it’s only fair I know your name, darlin’, if I’m gonna be telling you all this_.

For a moment, Jim considers lying but then decides against it. The other man is not from around town, there’s not going to be any chance of him actually knowing who Jim is if he knows his name. _Jim’s asking, but feel free to ignore my questions_

He gets back a _Leonard. And wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t interested in telling you ;)_ and the rest of the evening is spent with Leonard going on about medical school and meeting Geoffrey and Christine and the amount of trouble they’d get into on their weekends off.

And when Leonard asks Jim what kind of mischief Jim’d get up to in his weekends off Jim says that’s a tale for another time but he really ought to go to bed.

He lays in bed and stares up at the ceiling, wondering what a guy like Leonard would think of him when he says he spends his weekends at his computer, talking with friends all over the world and just being his nerdy self.


	2. Chapter 2

Jim’s _actually_ looking at colleges.

He can’t quite believe it but somehow talking to Leonard is motivating. A doctor at the age of twenty-nine, perhaps it’s Jim’s intimidation for the other that kicks his ass into the gear of looking into what he’d want to study but it’s motivation so he won’t complain.

Now he spends his evenings at the computer chatting with Leonard and researching opportunities and spends nights in bed masturbating to _darlin’_ and _sugar_ and a voice he’s never heard and a face he’s never seen.

And that’s how after a bit over a week of chatting, Leonard almost offhandedly says _we’re living in the same town, we ought to just go out for a beer_ Jim panics.

Because here he is, crushing on a guy who is going to think he’s catfishing him.

He writes back _not much for beer_ , shuts down his computer and doesn’t look again. He distracts himself by actually going downstairs and having dinner with his mom.

The next day, he pretends to not think about Leonard and possibly meeting – disappointing – him but it’s constantly on his mind at work.

He brings it up on Discord the next evening, when Spock, Pavel, Hikaru and him are on their weekly Friday-night-game-night – Overwatch this week, but Jim’s mind hasn’t been on it.

So after he’s died – _again_ – he pauses the game and says: “guys, I gotta ask you something.”

“Finally,” Hikaru sighs and Jim’s Skyped enough with him that his friend – living in San Fran with his husband and daughter – is rolling his eyes. “Thought you’d never start.”

“Yes, Hikaru was already asking me how we would torture the information out of you,” Pavel jokes, his Russian accent less thick than it had been the first time Jim’d spoken to him four years ago.

“Hey, no individual chats!” Jim scolds playfully.

Hikaru huffs because they all keep individual chats. “Pot and kettle, Jim.”

“Excuse you,” Jim argues, “that’s –”

“Spill already, okay?” Hikaru interrupts impatiently. “We’re in the middle of a game here.”

Jim winces and yea, maybe he is holding up the rest from actually enjoying their evening. “We could always –”

“Jim,” the syllable is stern, a sigh almost and Spock doesn’t really need to say more.

Jim sighs. “One of my followers on my… other blog is in Riverside for a few months and wants to meet up with me.”

“That’s bad news?” Spock asks.

Jim purses his lips and then softly admits: “we might have been flirting a bit.”

There’s an excited curl in his gut just thinking about it but he pushes it down. Now is really not the time to think about it.

“The question stands,” Spock comments and there’s slight confusion in his voice. To him, it’s probably logical that after flirting comes a meeting – which in most cases _would_ make sense.

Jim sighs. “Not really, Spock.”

Silence follows and after a moment Pavel snickers. “Spock, we can’t _see_ you.”

Now, it’s Spock’s turn to sigh. “You have all known me long enough to know what I look like right now. Why is that bad news?”

Silence follows and it seems neither Pavel nor Hikaru are going to help Jim out here so Jim says: “it’s my other blog, Spock… he doesn’t _know_ me.”

“He?” Pavel asks, immediately noticing the slip.

“He got a name?” Hikaru pries, sounding enthusiastic.

Jim rolls his eyes but he’s got a smile on his lips nonetheless. _This_ is easy conversation. “Leonard.”

“How old is he?” Hikaru asks with a laugh. “Sounds like old man’s name.”

“Twenty-nine,” he replies.

“Good age,” Pavel hums.

“Does he have someone back home?” Hikaru asks.

“What?” Jim yelps and frowns. “Why would he?”

“It’s a fair question,” Hikaru answers.

“Well I don’t know, okay?” Jim huffs, feeling offended because Leonard doesn’t seem to be flirting with one guy while having someone else back home. “Besides, I didn’t have the time to ask, as I was freaking out over him wanting to meet up!”

“Wait, you left him hanging?” Pavel demands.

“What else could I do?” Jim asks, feeling slightly guilty now but what should he say?

_“Answer him?”_ Hikaru cries.

Jim sighs and shakes his head. “And say what? Hey dude, you seem cool and all but the guy you think I am, well funny story but that’s actually not me at all. I’m just a nerd living with my mom working at the local pizza dump with no future whatsoever. Oh did I mention my room is filled with Star Wars collectibles and my dream is to go to Comic Con?” he rants and his hands are shaking by the end as he slides down in his chair, muttering: “yea, I’m sure that will go over real well.”

Spock sighs. “As always, your lack of confidence in yourself astounds me.”

Jim rolls his eyes. “Gee, thanks Spock.” He knows very well how he sees himself, he doesn’t need the reminder.

“Shut up, Jim.” Hikaru speaks up and his voice is stern and tight but when he continues he speaks softer, fondly. “You know he’s saying you’re a great catch whether you see it or not.”

“Anyone should be lucky to meet you,” Spock chimes in.

“Hell yea!” Pavel adds enthusiastically. “I’ve known you for ages Jim and we’ve never visited each other. This guy should feel like the luckiest guy in the world getting to meet you before any of us do!”

Jim takes a shuddering breath, as always amazed that these people are actually his friends. “Guys…”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Hikaru asks softly.

Jim frowns. “Only him ratting me out on my blog and me not only looking like an idiot but losing all my followers. Hate anons, you know how they jump onto everything they can.”

“Then you turn off Anon, Jim. It’s that easy,” Hikaru says easily. “And those followers, who cares? Because the ones that do will stay no matter who you are and the rest can go.”

Then Pavel speaks up, asking: “Good riddance, no?”

And after a moment of silence, Spock murmurs: “Also may I raise you the question what’s the _best_ that can happen?”

Jim sits at his computer, staring blankly at the screen for a moment. He knows they have a point. He knows it’s _just_ a blog and none of his followers are actually people he knows in real life – and the select few he does he surely doesn’t know through _that_ blog. So in the end, what _is_ the worst that can happen? He gets rejected? Well, his life feels like a disappointment in general already so he’s certain he can deal with that as well.

“I’m going to regret this,” Jim groans into his hands.

Hikaru and Pavel laugh, while in the background Spock asks: “but what if you don’t?”

 

\---

 

By the time Jim works up the courage to actually get back to Leonard their conversation has been silent for almost two full days.

He feels nervous when he finally opens the chat window and reads the last part of their communication again.

He takes a breath and sends a _hey there, how are you? Still wanna have a drink?_

It takes a few hours before he gets a reply – a few hours during which Jim panics and doubts and hesitates but damn it, people have lives so just be patient. _Thought you’d gone awol on me there, sugar. Happy to hear from you but I’m dead tired. Busy day at the practice._

Jim almost sighs in relief at the reply because after panicking, he wasn’t sure what to expect. _Yea, totally get that. No worries, go sleep off the day ;)_

Jim doesn’t expect a reply after that, assumes Leonard will just go to bed and they’ll talk again tomorrow but turns out, he’s wrong.

_I’m off full day tomorrow though, might be called in for an emergency but otherwise I could do lunch if you’re up for it._

Jim sucks in a breath.

They’ve been chatting for less than two weeks and this is it. _This is it_.

Is he really going to say yes now and meet up with one of his followers? Someone who he doesn’t quite consider a friend yet but the undertones of their conversation have hinted at… well, not at friendship.

He swallows, types _sure, got the day off tomorrow too_ before he can change his mind and lets himself fall back against his bed.

He stares up at the ceiling wondering what the hell he’s just done when his phone chimes again. He turns his head to read the message and his blood runs cold.

_Cool, looking forward to testing that accent on ya darlin’… want to send me a pic so I know who I’m looking for tomorrow?_

It’s like he’d almost forgotten that meeting Leonard, the other would have to know what he looks like. He doesn’t even get excited at the thought of seeing Leonard, doesn’t really think about it as he opens his photos and tries to find a decent one of himself.

Then he stumbles on a picture of six months ago that his mom made him take for Gran. With his mother directing the picture it’s actually not that bad like sure he’s in his Star Wars hoodie and he’s not wearing his glasses but it’ll work out. He wasn’t planning on wearing his glasses tomorrow anyway – about time to try the contacts – and he can cut the picture at shoulder-height so the print on the hoodie doesn’t actually show. His hair is still in disarray but that’s its natural state so there is no way he can hide that tomorrow.

He sends Leonard the picture and wants to hide his face in his pillow. He’s so anxious and embarrassed that he doesn’t even remember to send an actual message along with the photograph.

As if he’d been waiting, Leonard’s reply is almost immediate. _Thanks, darlin’. Got some incredible blue eyes, don’t ya?_

Jim almost squeals – _almost_. But he _does_ blush and fumbles with his phone before he manages a reply to Leonard – who can’t really think he looks good, right? _Wish I could pay you a compliment in return but, you know, haven’t seen that gorgeous face of yours yet_.

_Haha, ok give me a sec,_ Leonard writes back and Jim waits almost breathlessly for the picture to come in.

When the picture comes in, Jim hesitates for a moment to open Tumblr.

He wants to see, after the talking and the flirting he definitely wants to see but there’s also part of him that doesn’t want to. What if Leonard’s totally different from what he’s imagined?

_Well,_ he thinks almost bitterly, _then right back at ya._

He swallows and opens the chat window and when the picture opens he nearly throws his phone across the room.

Dark hair, tanned skin, and _those eyes_ …

He sinks down his mattress and buries his face in his pillow because he’s screwed. Absolutely, utterly screwed.

Leonard is gorgeous.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, everyone! I just want to thank everyone for the amazing messages, reblogs and tags. The love for this fic and the story has been overwhelming and I love you guys <3

The next morning, Jim is a nervous mess.

He’s thought about cancelling a few times, has typed out a cancellation already and deleted it and his hands are sweaty as he drives himself to the restaurant to meet Leonard.

He pulls up in the lot and checks himself in the rear-view mirror.

He sighs, still beyond disappointed he’s had to wear his glasses. That was _not_ the intention but he doesn’t wear his contacts very often because his eyes get irritated sometimes and today was one of those sometimes days. Better to wear his black-frame glasses than sit at the table crying, he supposes but that doesn’t mean he’s happy about it.

“Come on man, it’ll be fine,” he tells himself. Aside from the glasses he doesn’t look too bad. His hair finally worked with him, the dark blue flannel of his shirt looks good and his jeans are just the right medium between loose and skinny.

He gets out of his car at the same time that a black truck pulls up into the lot and Jim recognizes it almost instantly.

It’s Leonard’s.

He blows out a deep breath, sticks his hands in his pockets lest he starts fidgeting and makes his way over.

Leonard gets out of the car just as Jim steps up to the driver’s side and he tries not to stumble, tries not to blush or make an idiot out of himself but Leonard looks even better in person.

Especially those eyes when they light up as the fall on Jim, those lips that stretch into an excited, happy smile and _he’s wearing a leather jacket, fuck me_. Not only that, the first two buttons of his gray shirt are undone, showing off a tan that goes further than just his cheeks and Jim’s not sure if he’ll make it through lunch without turning into a pile of goo.

“Why hello there, Darlin’,” Leonard greets, accent thick and rich like honey, dripping over Jim like sweet, _sweet_ molasses. Leonard steps up to him and the small pull at his lips shows Jim’s not the only one who’s nervous here.

It feels like a relief, because he’d hate to be the only one completely and utterly out of his depth.

But then Leonard reaches out a hand and clasps Jim’s shoulders, saying: “Happy to finally meet ya.”

Jim smiles in return – hopes it’s charming rather than shaky – and leans his head to the side a bit. “Indeed,” he murmurs and tries very hard not to let his eyes drift over Leonards body.

He fails, but only for a moment and ducks his head, pretending he needed to push his glasses up his nose – and at least they’re good for _something_.

“Wanna go in?” Jim asks, trying to hide his embarrassment.

But Leonard’s smirk shows he definitely caught Jim looking and the pleased look in his eyes sends a pleasant thrill down Jim’s spine.

But Leonard doesn’t mention it. Merely says “sure,” and they make their way inside.

Their conversation is only slightly stilted at the beginning, where neither quite knows what to say and watches the other’s face a bit too long after they said anything to capture a facial expression. But once they’re seated and their drinks ordered, it feels a lot more relaxing. A lot more natural.

Jim is amazed, if he’s honest.

Their texts had been fluent, an almost constant conversation but he hadn’t expected it from their meeting. Had thought, sort of expected, that the moment Leonard laid eyes on in the other would _know_. That he’d see right through Jim, through the persona he pretends to be on his side-blog.

But here they are. Talking, laughing and Leonard actually seems to _like_ Jim.

It’s a relief, that’s for certain, because Jim definitely likes Leonard. This handsome, smart man that’s full of wit and snark, how can he _not_?

It only makes him feel more guilty though and even as the waitress takes their food orders his mind is stuck on the question if he should tell Leonard.

It’s only when the waitress leaves and Leonard leans his elbows onto the table with a laugh that Jim’s pulled from his thoughts.

Leonard’s watching him with a grin on his lips, a teasing twinkle in his eyes. “Not so much of a green salad guy after all?”

A teasing jab at Jim’s blog, playful and innocent but Jim’s eyes widen nonetheless, his mouth dry. “Ah, well I...”

Leonard laughs – and it makes the little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes pull together in the cutest way and that deep, rumbling laugh should be illegal – waving a hand in the air. “No worries, there’s always a lot more behind the blogger than just the blog. Besides, we can’t have salad every day,” Leonard winks.

“Yea,” Jim laughs awkwardly and averts his eyes to his glass as he mumbles: “ so much more.”

He takes a sip of his drink, keeping his eyes on the table.

He should tell Leonard, it’s only fair. Because here is this honest, charming guy and Jim is being a dick, keeping up a image that isn’t him. And in the end, does he really want Leonard to like _that_ guy?

He puts the glass down next to his elbow and takes a deep breath. “I gotta tell you something,”

Leonard’s expression changes, the humor replaced with a small frown at the seriousness in Jim’s voice and he leans back against his chair. “Okay?”

“So,” Jim starts and then pauses. He frowns at himself for a moment before deciding the best way to do this is to just come right out and say it. So he waves a hand in the air to start his sentence.

But he never starts his sentence.

His elbow hits his glass and for a breathless moment it wobbles and then topples over, half of its contents flowing down the table like a dam broke.

“Fuck!” Jim is quick to grab the glass and put it upright but the water is already dripping off of the table and the napkin he throws on top of the puddle on the table doesn’t do a lot to stop that.

“Here.” Leonard puts his own napkin down and their waitress is over at their table with a whole stack of them in what seems like seconds.

“I’m so sorry,” Jim mumbles in embarrassment after most of the liquid has been soaked in a mountain of paper napkins.

“Don’t worry, it happens,” the waitress laughs and then waves at Jim’s shirt. “Should I bring you a towel for your shirt?”

“Ah,” Jim lifts his left arm and only now realizes that part of his sleeve got soaked along with the table. He resists the urge to sigh because _of course_. “No that’s fine, I’ll just take it off.”

“Sure,” the waitress says, looking amused as she gathers the wet napkins and leaves Jim with an even more amused Leonard.

“You’ll take it off, hm?” Leonard asks with a teasing gleam in his eyes and a grin on his lips.

Jim’s eyes widen slightly and a small blush dusts his cheeks at the words and he says “I’ve got something underneath,” before his mind tells him that maybe he should’ve said something flirty. So he glances at Leonard and smirks, adds a “sorry to disappoint,” and he doesn’t know where he got these skills from but apparently he’s very good at unbuttoning a flannel shirt _slowly_.

Leonard laughs, appears amused but his eyes still follow Jim’s hands and Jim feels like combusting at having the attention of a man like Leonard.

When Jim shrugs off the shirt, Leonard chuckles.

“I remember seeing you post when you got that shirt,” he says and takes in Jim’s gray t-shirt with a detailed picture of Gandalf on it saying he wants _you_ to join in an adventure. “It’s even better in person.”

Jim laughs in return, hangs his blue shirt over the back of his chair and when he sits down again says: “Isn’t it just?”

Then his world freezes.

_Remember seeing you post_

His eyes snap up to Leonard and panic rises in his chest.

“Where did you see it?” he asks, soft and hesitant.

“Your blog,” Leonard chuckles.

Jim draws a shaky breath. “Which one?”

“Reaching for the stars,” is the matter-of-factly reply.

“You…. You _knew_?” Jim asks and his hands clench in the tablecloth.

“You thought I didn’t know about the other blog?” Leonard asks and leans his head to the side with a worried frown. He might not know exactly why Jim is close to freaking out, but it’s obvious something is wrong. “Yea you posted to the wrong blog once and someone tagged your main. I still remember the post, a whole essay about the strength of the female characters in Lord of the Rings. It was quite impressive and I checked out your blog and I have to say, darlin’, I love it. Maybe I should’ve said?”

At this point, Jim’s panic has switched to complete and utter confusion “And you still wanted to meet with me?” he asks, his voice small.

Leonard knows. Follows his main blog where he rants about the fandoms he’s in and moreover, complains about his life.

Leonard _knows_ who Jim is and still wanted to see him…

“What? Why wouldn’t I?”” Leonard’s eyes widen in confusion but then, after a moment, his expression darkens. “Who made you feel like you weren’t good enough?”

Jim’s breath hitches and he shakes his head because how is this man real? How can one man take all the things Jim has ever been taught about his place in this world and _not_ care about that? How can he be so unlike Jim’s family, his high-school class, _everyone_ in this damned town? “I threw away my future and now I’m working in some pizza dump, living with my _mom_. I don’t need anyone to show me I’m not good enough.”

“Well, then you need someone that makes you feel like you _are_ good enough,” Leonard murmurs softly and reaches out a hand to lay it over one of Jim’s in a comforting, calming gesture. “Because you are, Sugar.”

It’s an absolute miracle Jim doesn’t burst out crying.

 

\---

 

Leonard walks Jim to his car after lunch, despite Jim’s amusement.

“Such a Southern gentleman,” he teases because after the emotional revelation of Leonard being interested in… well, _him_ , lunch had been everything Jim hadn’t dared dream of. Because Leonard might not be as much as a nerd as Jim is, he still gets Jim’s references and laughs at his ridiculous puns. And then there is _the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_ which they both love and of course Leonard feels an emotional connection to Marvin. _Of course_.

When they come to a stop at Jim’s car, Leonard smirks and reaches for Jim’s hand. He raises it and presses a quick kiss to it, his eyes sparkling impishly. “Well I did promise, didn’t I?”

Jim flusters slightly at the gesture but covers it up with a grin even though Leonard has already realized Jim is quite charmed by his ‘Southern manners’. “That you did,” he answers and for a moment they stand there a bit awkwardly. Neither wanting to leave but both also unsure about what to do next.

“I uh… you got the rest of the day off, right?” Jim eventually asks.

“I do,” Leonard’s expression brightens. “What are you thinking?”

He only lets himself doubt for a moment - hesitate, worry the answer will be no - before he asks: “Wanna match a movie?”

Leonard doesn’t doubt. He nods with excitement in his eyes and then a grin falls over his lips. “Trying to get me into the back of a dark movie theatre?” he teases with a wink.

Jim flusters slightly at the comment, not used to flirting anywhere except perhaps online. But then he wonders if there really is a difference. Everything else has been the same with Leonard so far, so why should this be any different?

So he smirks, murmurs “what if I am?” and as Leonard’s pleased laugh washes over him, Jim thinks that perhaps he’s not just pretending to be anything at all.

Maybe he is _both_ these Jims and you know what? _That’s perfectly fine_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an end note I just want to say that online friends are amazing. We know so much about each other’s lives, have funny and intense conversations and support one another so, so much. Distance - both physical and in time - doesn’t matter, because our friendship and love is not defined by how often we see each other. It is more than that. I have made so many friends online and whoever thinks they aren’t real friends can come and fight me.
> 
> Also, if you take anything from this fic that is not the above, make it this: it doesn’t matter that you can’t defined by one word. That you can’t be placed in a box or labeled as X or Y or Z. We are all human and none of us is the same. We are unique, sometimes we are mixed personalities and contradictions and that is perfectly fine. You are you, and that is all that matters.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://thevalesofanduin.tumblr.com/) <3


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